Spamano Drabbles
by NobodysHandmaid
Summary: A collection of Spamano oneshots
1. Cats

It was impossible to walk around Antonio and Lovino's home without tripping over a cat. No-one was sure where all of them had come from - when the couple had moved into that house, they had been entirely catless. Their building was, in fact, a cat-free zone. The small fluffy things had to have colonised it slowly, one by one.

Surprisingly, to anyone who knew the couple, it was _Lovino_ who had brought in the first one. A tiny little quivering ball of fluff that he had found in the rain, possibly abandoned. When Antonio had come home and found him cuddling a little kitten bundled up in an old towel, holding up some warm, diluted milk, his first action was to take several pictures on his phone without being seen, before joining his lover and cooing over it.

That kitten had long since grown up, and now the Fernandez Vargas household seemed to have a beacon attached to it attracting all sorts of cats. And the two men adored every one, to the point where Lovino's younger brother pointed out that they were acting like newly-made parents whenever they were fussing over their pets.

All this did was make Antonio insist on being the Papa of their little army of cats, and delight in calling his Italian lover "Madre" at what seemed to be precisely calculated moments for maximum irritation.

(They did end up adopting human children, attributing their success at parenting to practice with their cats)


	2. I'm Not Sorry

There is something awful about a dead body. A cold stiffness that everyone instinctively shies away from. And it smacks you in the face that, whoever or whatever this lump of cold flesh and stiff bones was, they're not there any more. It may _look_ like them, but it's as real as a doll, or a stickman scribble.

All of the anger, all of the determination, all of the fire that made Lovino himself was _gone_. His face was empty, the muscles slack. Antonio had never seen that before, not even those unguarded moments when he was asleep. There was always _something_ in the stubborn set of his lips, or the way his eyebrows were dragged down.

So why couldn't he let go?


	3. Walking On Sunshine

Listening to cheesy old pop was one of Lovino's guilty pleasures. The fact that he secretly loved it was one of his closest kept secrets and he doubted he would ever be able to live it down if his boyfriend ever found out.

It was a grey, gloomy day. The sullen clouds hung low in the sky and Antonio had been called in to his Parliament to fix up something that one or another of the, in Lovino's opinion, idiots in charge of running the country had done. It sucked that he'd been called in on one of the few days he got to visit, but Lovino would make the best of it. He connected his phone to the, quite frankly, impressive set of speakers, hit shuffle and cranked the volume up loud.

…..

When Antonio finally finished with his Boss's latest demands, he returned home. His usually cheerful demeanor had slipped, and he shuffled quietly into his house. It took a moment for him to realise that the sounds of "Walking on Sunshine" were blasting through his house and he followed them to their source.

He came through just as the first chorus was ending and watched as his lover danced, facing away from the Spaniard.

" _I used to think maybe you love me, I know that it's true~!_ "

Antonio's smile grew as the Italian sang along energetically. He slowly made his way over and hugged him from behind, singing along into his ear.

" _I don't want you back for a weekend, not back for a day!_ "

Lovino jumped as Antonio's arms wrapped around him and soon felt the heat rising in his cheeks at being caught. His boyfriend swayed with the rhythms and began to dance with him.

Before long, both were laughing as they danced and sang together, the Italian's embarrassment entirely forgotten in the face of those _perfect_ emerald eyes dancing with joy. Their dancing was awful, it was uncoordinated, it was messy.

It was the most fun they had had in _ages_.

And as the singer hit the final line, Antonio pulled Lovino in close and, without warning, dipped him and bent to kiss him deeply. As he was brought up, Lovi's arms wrapped around Tonio's and he kissed back. When they pulled apart, the opening notes of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' beginning to play, Antonio hugged him close, laughing happily.


	4. Starlight

**_This is set when Spain was Chibimano's boss - so not actually Spamano._**

* * *

"Romano? Roma, wake up."

The small Nation was not happy at being woken. Not happy at all. It wasn't even light! He squirmed under the covers, moaning in complaint. And then that _jerk_ had the _nerve_ to flip them back and lift him up.

Spain settled him on his hip, one arm supporting him and the other stroking his hair.

"You'll like this, cariño, I promise. I've been planning this for a while."

They walked - well, Spain walked, carrying Romano - like this, the child cuddling into his Boss when they left the main house. As they walked up a hill, Spain was talking softly.

"Not much longer, Romanito."

Romano was set down on a blanket, among a pile of cushions from the house. Spain flopped down next to him, grinning. "I brought these and some treats as well!"

"Huh?"

"Well, I was going to bed and then I looked out of my window and I thought I'd bring you out here! I've been doing this for about an hour!" He gently pulled Romano down to lie next to him. "Look up."

The sky was a soft, dark blanket above them that was decorated with an endless swirl of stars. It was a new moon, so those little points seemed to shine even brighter. Spain's arm wrapped around him, despite the night being warm enough that he didn't need to.

And then Spain pointed up with the other. "See that constellation?" Romano followed the finger. "It's Hercules."

'I know!' Romano wanted to snap at him. His grandfather had shown him the constellations, had told him the stories behind each of those figures placed in the sky by the gods.

But… It was nice, like this. Spain's voice was _nice_ , his arm around him was _nice_ and the memories of long-ago nights with his grandfather, looking up into the sky… They were more than nice.

So he lay there peacefully as the idiota started telling the tale of the Twelve Tasks of Hercules, holding back giggles when he got little bits wrong. Part way through the story, Spain sat up and pulled over a small basket.

"I almost forgot! Little treats to eat!"

So Romano listened to rest of it, eating small cakes and sweets, and when Spain finished at Hercules redeeming himself, Romano pointed at Cassiopeia. ("No, not _that_ one, idiot. _This_ one!") He told Spain the legend of Cassiopeia and Andromeda.

"... And so, to show she couldn't escape her punishment, Neptune put her up in the sky tied to a chair! And as the heavens turn, she's upside down for six months every year!"

"Isn't it a Greek myth? Shouldn't that be Poseidon?"

"Hmph. Nonno's gods are way better than Ancient Greece's." He crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks, even though Spain couldn't see.

"How cute~" Romano felt a hand ruffling his hair and before he could retaliate, Spain picked out another constellation to talk about.

By the time he'd finished, his little Romanito was sound asleep.


	5. Tomato Fight

It was all Antonio's fault.

Every last bit of this could be traced back to him.

Lovino was nothing more than an innocent bystander who'd got caught up in the madness.

Or so he'd assert afterwards, without a single sliver of guilt at throwing Antonio under the metaphorical bus.

Feliciano had dragged them to stay at the potato bastard's house for the weekend, blabbering on about how it would be 'such a nice bonding time for all four of us!' and his beloved idiot had agreed before Lovino could open up his mouth. So the four of them were stuck in the middle of the German countryside in a poky old house _without internet or phone signal_.

Apparently this lack of modern necessities was the only way to keep the potato bastard from overworking.

In Lovino's opinion, all it did was make it _that much harder_ not to wrap his hands around his neck. Especially when he knocked on his and Antonio's bedroom door at four in the morning and demanded to know if either of them were interested in joining him in his morning run.

Even after three mornings in a row of something heavy thrown at the door accompanied by a grumpy "Fuck off!", Ludwig still didn't seem to get the hint.

This particular afternoon, Feliciano had dragged Ludwig off to see some crumbling Prussian castle or tourist trap site and he and Antonio had agreed to stay and make dinner.

Lovino had had _enough_ of this shitty German nonsense.

They'd gone to the nearest town and loaded up with tomatoes that were _far_ from the quality they were used to, as well as picking up a few other items that they needed for the recipe. Looking back on the sheer number of tomatoes that Antonio had insisted on buying, Lovi would come to the conclusion that he'd been _planning_ this, and right from the start.

About half an hour before Ludwig and Feliciano were due back, the two who'd stayed behind began to cook. They intended to surprise them with dinner ready and on the table for their return. Lovi had just got out the tomatoes and a chopping board when Antonio tripped, sending the water he'd been carrying flying. Right onto Lovi's head.

" _What_ the _**fuck**_?!" He squealed, gasping in shock from how _cold_ it was. Droplets caught in his hair dripped down the back of his neck and underneath his shirt collar.

"Ah! Lovi! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you fucking 'Lovi' _me…_ " He growled, hand closing around the closest weapon.

 _Splat_

He landed a glancing blow to Antonio's hairline and watched with satisfaction as the juices began to dribble down his face.

"Loviiii!" He swiped a seed out of his eyebrow. "That wasn't very nice!"

"Maybe not, but now we're even."

A sly grin came to Antonio's lips and he reached for the basket with the rest of the tomatoes in. "Even? All I dropped on you was water, and that was an accident!"

"Antonio, it was the fucking coldest thing I have ever had down th-" He was cut off by a direct hit to his chest.

It was _on_.

Lovino took possession of the kitchen sink, filling cups and bowls with cold water to throw, while Antonio piled up various kinds of soft, messy ammunition. Maybe the raspberries didn't have the same kind of splatter as the tomatoes, but it was fun to try to pinpoint aim them.

Meanwhile, Lovino had grabbed a cheeseboard and was using it almost as a bat to fend off Antonio's projectiles, sending raspberries and strawberries and tomatoes flying off in every direction. Water was puddled over the floor, and fruit stained almost every surface of the kitchen.

When Ludwig came in to investigate the strange sounds on his return, he was greeted with a tomato to the face before he could even _begin_ to process what had been done to his nice, clean kitchen.

A mug of icy cold water quickly followed it and Antonio took advantage of Lovino's distraction to launch a sneak attack; he managed to get over to where the Italian was standing and grabbed the huge plastic tub that had been filling up.

Lovino almost _screamed_ when it was dumped over his head.

Antonio couldn't stop laughing.

Lovino, cold and dripping wet, took his revenge.

He hugged him, holding Antonio close as the Spaniard squirmed and tried to get away. The fruit juices and cold water seeped through with the hug, and some of the smaller berries that had caught in the folds of his clothes burst.

Ludwig watched this scene, the conclusion that he would never understand Romantic countries sinking in deeper. He turned around and left, leaving the idiots to it.

"Ha! Got you!" Lovino hissed victoriously into his lover's ear.

"If you say so." A strong pair of arms returned the hug and Antonio kissed his cheek, licking up a trail of diluted tomato juice.

"That was gross."

"Very tasty though~ My favourite flavour~"

"You're a dick." Lovino loosened his grip, making it less of an attempt to crush the life out of the other and more of tight hug.

"You know you love me."

"Do I? Do I really?"

Silence.

"...Yeah, I love you. Dickhead. Now let's clean up before the German prick comes in and yells at us."


	6. WiFi and Coffee

It had been one hell of a storm, that night. Feliciano had fled to join him at the first hint of thunder, as usual, waking Lovino up in the process. Without a word, he folded his arms protectively around his baby brother – this was the only occasion he'd hold him like this without putting up a hell of a lot of a fuss first. Feli had always been a bit of a baby when it came to storms.

The next morning, he was inspecting their property for damage like felled trees or debris thrown about by wind, among other things. It had been pretty rough, and he knew that they'd been right in the centre of it; at about three in the morning, they'd had five minutes of peace when he'd allowed himself to think it was over. Turned out that they were in the eye of the storm.

Even now, there was still a steady drizzle of rain making him uncomfortably cold and wet.

As Lovi made his way over to one of the vines, he was grateful that they'd finished the year's harvest. This would almost certainly have ruined the crop if they hadn't.

He finished his rounds by leaning over the fence of the small paddock and checking on the trio of horses inside. They trotted over, ears pricked and eyes attentively trained on him, and efficiently frisked him for treats once they had reached the fence. Even the retired old mare that they'd taken on as a favour for a friend was looking chirpy.

"But then again, nothing much rattles _you_ , does it, Nonna?" He murmured, digging into his pockets to pass out a few mints.

There weren't any new bumps on them that he could see, and no injuries under the thick layer of mud on their coats. Satisfied that all was well, he returned to the house to get a _real_ breakfast in him – not just a thermos of the strongest black coffee he could make.

Sitting at the table, he unlocked his phone and began to check the local news as he ate, only to find out that there had indeed been a casualty.

The Wi-Fi was dead.

It had passed on. It was no more. It had ceased to be. It had expired and gone to meet its maker! It was a stiff. Bereft of life, it was resting in peace. Its metabolic processes were history. It was off the twig. It had kicked the bucket, shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

Isolated as their house was – usually a bonus, in the elder brother's opinion – this was more than a _little_ bit of an inconvenience.

He flew to the phone and, when Feliciano came down in his overlong pyjama top, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, Lovino was furiously swearing at the landline in his hand.

"Did the phone do something wrong, Lovi?"

" _Damn right_ it did something wrong!" He jammed it back down in the cradle, growling at the cheerful little _beep_ it made when it clicked into place. "Fucking thing isn't _working!_ "

"Have you checked that it's still –"

"Of fucking _course_ I checked that it was all still connected! How _thick_ do you think I _am?!_ "

Feliciano waited in patient silence, well-used to this and knowing that it was better to let him rant everything out. Once the impressive, even by Lovino's standards, rant was over, the voice of reason spoke.

"Maybe the storm hit a phone line? Let's go into town; the coffee shops there will have free Wi-Fi." And there would be cake as well, and Feliciano thought that Lovino really needed a little bit of extra sweetness inside him right now.

"…Fine."

And so they gathered up phones and tablets and laptops, and they both got dressed and, more quickly than they usually would be, piled into the car. Lovino very firmly took the driver's seat because the _last_ time he'd let his brother drive, he'd nearly had a heart attack.

'Rollercoaster' was the nicest possible way to describe Feliciano's driving style. On a good day.

 **wifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifi**

Lovino left Feli to order and quickly found a corner table to get himself ensconced in. Comfortable chairs, clean table, and most importantly, a power socket. He signed in and barely noticed Feliciano arriving with drinks and two generously sized slices of cake as he began to check his email.

The café was busier than usual; most of the tables soon filled up, making Lovino grateful that they'd got in early. When dragged his eyes away from the screen, that was.

"Drink your coffee; it'll be getting cold."

He took a sip, and then another when he realised how well it had been made.

After Feliciano finished his own drink and slice of cake, he looked at his brother apologetically. "I'm sorry, Lovi, but I promised Monika yesterday that I'd help her with the doggies while the others are away…"

Monika Beilschmidt ran the local animal rescue, along with her two brothers. Ludwig also did dog training and Gilbert – a trained vet – ran both the blog and sponsored runs. The latter while wearing an oversized Dalmatian onesie. Normally, she'd have more than enough help, but Ludwig was ill and Gilbert was on the other side of the country for a conference.

"Tch. Still haven't decided which sibling you like most? I swear, yesterday you were fawning all over the twin brother. Last week it was the beer guzzler, and today…"

"Shush! That's mean, Lovi! And rude of you!"

"Truth hurts."

Feliciano had been crushing on first one, and then another of the Beilschmidt siblings for about a year. The poor guy was like a carousel of confused pansexuality. If he'd been anyone other than Lovino's _utterly pure, totally innocent_ baby brother, he would've scoffed at him, told him to suggest a wild orgy, and then pick whichever of them gave the best sex. But he _was_ Lovino's _utterly pure, totally innocent_ baby brother, and thus anyone who would even _look_ at him in a sexual way would have their eyes gouged out in a fit of brotherly overprotectiveness.

Feli ruthlessly shot puppy eyes at his beloved older brother until he gave in and muttered a begrudging and slightly guilty apology. He hugged him and left, running so he wouldn't be late. Monika was very pretty, but she was also very scary at times.

That left Lovino alone at their table, trawling through local news sites for more information. It was about lunchtime before he knew it, and there was _someone_ trying to talk to him. He looked up, scowling at whoever had presumed to interrupt him.

"Ah! Hi! Sorry – you look busy! It's just – all of the other tables are full, and I was wondering if you'd let me sit with you?"

The world _had_ to be kidding him.

A quick glance around the coffee shop proved that this guy was telling the truth; there was barely a single seat that was not in use.

"If you have to." Lovino grunted, quickly returning his eyes to the screen. Hopefully, this guy would respect the rules of sitting with a stranger; no eye contact, no conversation, pretend they don't exist.

"Hi! I'm Antonio!"

Luck never had been on his side.

"Did your internet get taken out last night, too?"

Oh, _come on_. He came to check his email, not make a friend. "Yeah, it did." Hopefully that shortness would cool him off a little.

Thankfully, after a couple of remarks about the storm the previous night, Antonio's laptop had booted up and latched on to the café's Wi-Fi.

They sat there in an awkward silence until Lovino left.

 **wifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifi**

The next day, Lovino was back. The landline was still dead, and mobile reception around the Vargas house was, quite frankly, shit. They went into town; Feliciano to go to church, and Lovino to sit in the same café to wait for him.

The majority of the town was singing praises to their god, so there were very few tables that were actually occupied. Unfortunately, one of those occupied tables was the one he had begun to think of as _his_ table.

The table was low, and nestled cosily in a corner near the windows. There were two comfortable armchairs on either side of it, upholstered in cracked, but shiny, leather. It was far enough away from most of the other tables that he wouldn't have to deal with screaming children, but close enough to the counter that he wouldn't have far to walk with his drink. Most importantly, right now, there was a power socket nearby where he could plug in his laptop.

He took in a deep breath and lifted his head stubbornly high. He wouldn't let this prick chase him out of his place.

"Anyone sitting there?" He nodded at the empty chair, something in him saying that the brown mop of curls bent over a tablet looked dangerously familiar.

"Ah! No! No, I'm all alone!"

Antonio. Of course.

"Hey! You never told me your name yesterday!" He grinned. "I think I deserve to know it, if you want to sit with me~"

Bastard probably thought he was being crafty.

"…Lovino Vargas." It was a price worth paying. He dropped into the seat and opened up his laptop. Conversation did not start; they did their own respective thing until Antonio left, shortly before the church service ended and Feliciano took up the newly empty chair.

 **wifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifi**

This set the tone for their interactions throughout the next week. There was a mutual unspoken agreement to share the table. There were brief greetings at the start, which grew warmer and longer as the week went on, and after the first couple of days, goodbyes.

Lovino's job, as he had angrily told the phone and wifi provider first thing on Monday, depended on having a reliable internet connection. Unlike Feliciano, who taught art at the local school, he needed to stay connected to the rest of the world.

Antonio ran a small business selling advice on employment law and offering training for witnesses at tribunal. Although he didn't _always_ need to be connected, it could be vital at times.

At their table on Wednesday, Antonio laughed. Lovino looked up and their eyes met. Antonio grinned, still laughing quietly, and showed him the screen of his tablet. A video of a puppy trying to play with its own reflection was playing.

Lovino couldn't help himself; he felt his own lips twitch and a snort bubbled up.

Antonio was transfixed. He was so _cute_ when he laughed! That little snort was _adorable_. He resolved to share all of the cute and funny videos and pictures he came across, wanting to make him laugh again.

On Thursday, they got to the coffee shop at the same time. Antonio was directly ahead of Lovino in the queue, and he ordered two drinks.

"Lovi, you can go get our table – I'll bring our drinks."

"I didn't ask you to – "

"I want to!" He beamed.

With a slight grumble, just out of principle, Lovino grabbed Antonio's tablet and went to 'their' table. By now, people had unconsciously begun to leave that table alone, so it was barely used until after they'd left for the day.

Antonio paid and brought their drinks over. To Lovino's surprise, he'd remembered _exactly_ Lovi's usual order. On his first cautious sip of it, he discovered that it was even better than usual. What gave the bastard the _right_ to be so damn nice?

When Lovino left that afternoon, he also left behind his phone number, not really expecting anything to come from it.

That evening, just before dinner, his phone pinged.

Hi! This is Antonio! :):):):)

Shortly after, it pinged again.

From the coffee shop!

And again.

Is this Lovi?

He knew that he'd have to reply, or else be inundated with similarly chirpy texts throughout the night.

 **It's LOVINO, asshole.**

He promptly saved the number under 'coffee bastard', not to be confused with 'beer bastard', 'dog bastard', or 'eyebrow bastard', to name a few.

The chirpiness did not seem to be able to be put off.

Hola, Lovi~~~!

He stared blankly at the screen for a few seconds.

 **I said LoviNO**

Vino, then!

 **No.**

Awwww! So mean of you, Lov!

Was this guy for real? He thought only Feliciano texted like that. At least he didn't seem to go in for the cruel and unnecessary stretching out of words like his brother did, though.

Loviiiiiiiiiiii! Are you getting my messages?

… Maybe he spoke too soon.

 **Yeah, I'm getting them. But I did warn you that my reception up here's shit.**

Awwww, I'm sorry! I'll try to be more patient!

 **wifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifiWIFIwifi**

On Friday, it was Lovino's turn to be stubbornly – almost passive-aggressively – _nice_. He bought Antonio a drink _and_ a slice of chocolate fudge cake. Seeing as he always had a large hot chocolate, he thought it was a fairly safe bet.

His landline had been fixed, but wifi was still dead. He didn't need to spend quite as much time down in the café, but found himself inexplicably reluctant to leave his and Antonio's table.

That morning, they reached a wordless agreement and shuffled the chairs around to sit next to each other. They shared things they found; Feliciano sent cute pictures and videos to Lovino at lunch time, and Antonio seemed to be doing little more than trawling through YouTube for the cutest videos he could.

On Saturday, at about two, Lovino got an overexcited call from his brother.

"Lovi! They fixed it! We have internet again!"

"We – we _what?_ You're sure?! About fucking _time_!"

"The lights are all green, and I can finally check my email at home again!"

"Fucking _fantastic!_ "

They talked at each other for a bit longer, before hanging up. Lovino had a satisfied grin – or, at least, as close as he could get to a grin – on his face.

"Wifi's finally back at home." He explained.

"Oh, wow, Lovi! I'm so pleased for you!"

"Yeah – I don't have to come here and buy an overpriced coffee to get online any more!" he crowed.

"So are you…?"

"Huh? No – I'm here now. May as well stay for a while longer."

And things resumed their usual rhythm for the rest of the afternoon, with some tension; they no longer had the driving force of no wifi to push them together. Were things going to change?

Lovino stood, holding his laptop bag close to him. "Um… So…" He studiously avoided Antonio's eyes. "You… You wanna do this again some time?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Without the laptop and shit."

"Like… A date?"

Those were clearly the words Lovino had been trying to avoid having to say. He nodded mutely and kept refusing to meet the other's eyes.

"I'd _love_ to!" Antonio grinned.

"Th-then we can sort it out through texts, right?"

He nodded, that dumb grin not leaving his face for a second.

Face flushed scarlet, Lovino made good his retreat. He got to his car, carefully set down his laptop bag and got in behind the wheel.

His eye was caught by his phone screen lighting up; Antonio was sending him _yet another_ meme. It was some horrific mashup of Pepe the frog and here come dat boi. And yet, he still couldn't help the little snort of laughter that came up when he opened it up to look at it. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled up Antonio's contact details in his phone. After a moment of hesitation, he tapped edit and changed the name. The next time Antonio called, his new contact name flashed up.

' _My_ bastard'.

* * *

 _This was written because I had to spend almost a month without wifi after a storm and made my faves suffer with me._


End file.
